Player 0.4 [You have died.] [Reset in progress.]

“Apophis,” I muttered, using Illusion Magic. My tired eyes lingered on the early morning sky: a soft, pale blue stretching endlessly above the academy grounds, untouched by the chaos of the night I had just endured. “Would it have been better if I had simply never learned how to hear and communicate with Void?”

The crystal doors of the library behind me slid shut with a quiet click.

Cool morning air filled my nostrils, carrying the faint scent of dew-soaked grass. After studying in the basement for so long, my body was quite warm compared to the outside.

The campus was quiet. Not completely silent, but it seemed more appropriate to whisper, given the early hour.

In the distance and out of sight, a fountain trickled water. Birds chirped from the bright green trees. And a pair of students walked in hushed conversation, as they made their way toward the dining hall, which had only just opened.

I had pulled an all-nighter. It was my first ever.

Sure, I had become more serious about my studies in the last few loops back in my home realm. And especially so nowadays, when my incompetence in magic could lead to some very serious repercussions in this realm. However, tonight was the first time I had felt so overwhelmingly desperate to study that I didn’t sleep a wink.

But my desperation was well warranted.

I exhaled slowly, pressing my warm palms over my dry eyes. While the Cat Nap Potions helped significantly, they did not completely erase the traces of just how far I had pushed myself tonight, forcing myself to memorize techniques, phrases, strategies… anything that might help me manage the unpredictable mood swings and demands of a toddler.

I was currently in possession of something far more volatile than any weapon I had encountered. Void was the equivalent of a mana bomb that could detonate at any moment if mishandled.

No, if I were to be honest, Void was far more frightening than any mere mana bomb. Even the Wobbly Pebble could be given a run for its money.

I lowered my hands from my face and inadvertently smirked at my poor comparison, considering how absurdly cheap the Wobbly Pebble was in the Game Store.

Apophis hissed from my shoulder, the sound low and amused.

~Master, that would not have made a difference. If a wave is already upon you, closing your eyes and ears will not prevent it from crashing down.

Tch. I clicked my tongue softly as I stepped on the stone path, making my way toward the dining hall. Having stayed up all night, I felt famished.

I had a feeling that was the case.

~At best, I was delaying the inevitable, Apophis continued. Holding the dam together for a time. But it would have overflowed regardless.

My gaze lowered from the sky, settling on the shadow pooled at my feet. Void lay there quietly, almost innocently, as if he hadn’t spent the entire night demonstrating just how dangerous he truly was.

“Should I not have formed a contract…?” I asked. “Would that have been safer?”

Before the contract, Void had been little more than a weak, inconsequential shadow that drew unwanted curiosity at best. Now, he was a creature that could seize control and puppeteer my body at will. And that ability was perhaps not even the most alarming of his abilities.

~You would have had to deal with him eventually, Apophis replied. While he is weak in this realm currently, when you return to your own—one saturated with dead mana—who knows what danger he would have posed?

I smiled and walked through the nearly deserted campus grounds. The earliest classes were not expected to start for another hour and a half, so the only students who could be found were those who opted for an extra-early breakfast.

“Weak?” I echoed, glancing down briefly. “Void is in this realm, and he is far from weak.”

~It’s due to the contract, Apophis said. At least, that’s my theory.

“You’re not sure?” I raised a brow.

A cool breeze swept through the courtyard, stirring the leaves of a nearby tree and sending a shiver up my arms. I had entered the library yesterday in the warmth of the late afternoon and was not dressed for the outside temperature.

{{ Mama, you’re cold. }}

I froze mid-step. I felt a second shiver rise over my skin, hearing his voice. Void was awake again.

{{ Oh no. Mama is getting colder. I will help. }}

The shadow at my feet stirred. It moved up and across my skin, as if I had passed under the shade of a tree.

More goosebumps peppered my skin as I realized what Void likely planned on doing.

I slowed my pace, forcing myself to stay calm.

“Void,” I said gently, keeping my tone even as I walked, “before you help Mama… what do you do first?”

I had given up on trying to convince it to call me ‘Papa’ instead. The tantrum that had ensued when I had attempted to influence it… had made me realise that there were far worse things than being referred to as ‘Mama.’

Yes. It was much simpler to just accept it. The situation was already far from ordinary.

There was a pause from Void. I could almost feel him thinking.

{{ …Ask permission. }}

I smiled, a bit more genuinely this time.

“That’s right,” I said. “You remembered.”

A student brushed past me, giving a curious glance at my slowed pace before continuing on.

“What did you want to do to help Mama?” I asked, keeping my voice warm.

{{ I was going to nullify the cold air. }}

Another pause.

{{ Mama, can I nullify the cold air? }}

“Yes, you can help,” I said, nodding. “Let’s try a small part first. My left arm—below the elbow.”

This was my compromise: risking a small part of my body to avoid saying ‘No’ ought right. Besides, ignoring Void’s abilities would have been of no benefit either.

{{ Okay. }}

The shadow gathered around my left arm, thickening just beneath the sleeve. The sensation came almost immediately. The biting edge of the morning breeze vanished. In its place was something soft. As if that part of my arm had been wrapped in a warm blanket while the rest of me still stood in the open air.

I slowly moved my arm, examining the contrast. The rest of my body’s skin was still prickled by the breeze, while my left arm remained untouched.

I nodded. “It feels warm.”

I provided positive reinforcement. Another technique I had read about.

{{ Is it good? Can I do more? }}

There was eagerness in his voice now.

“You did a good job,” I said first. “Yes, now you can do the rest.”

The shadow spread outward without hesitation, slipping over my shoulders, my torso, down my legs. And the cold sensation of the morning air disappeared instantly.

The wind was still around me. I could see it in the swaying branches, but it no longer stung my skin. It simply gilded past me.

I let out a quiet breath.

Further ahead, the dining hall doors stood open. The scent of freshly baked bread and something savory wafted through the air. My stomach growled in anticipation.

“When we go inside,” I said, gesturing lightly toward the entrance, “you’ll need to stop the helping and undo the nullification.”

{{ Why? }}

“Because it’ll be warm inside,” I explained.

{{ But… I’m helping. }}

I slowed again.

Right. I need to acknowledge his efforts first.

“You are helping,” I said, nodding. “You made me warm outside here.”

“But inside,” I continued, “I might get too warm.”

{{ Too warm…? }}

“Yes,” I said, stepping through the open doors. “So, outside, you can help. Inside… just rest.”

A wave of warmth and noise spilled over me as I entered the dining hall. The clinking of dishes, low conversations, and the steady hum of early activity filled the space. Only a couple dozen students were scattered throughout the hall, but compared to the empty campus outside, it felt almost lively.

{{ …Okay. }}

The shadow receded smoothly, pulling back into place beneath my feet. And the warmth of the hall replaced it naturally this time, with a tinge of coolness to break it up.

~Well done, Master.

I grabbed a metal tray and began filling it with food, taking everything within reach. Potatoes, eggs, bread, and a parfait—all settled quickly on my tray. Now that a meal was right in front of me, I wasn’t particularly selective.

“Apophis,” I said, balancing the tray as I moved toward a table, “you were saying earlier?”

~An elemental contract binds at the level of the soul, Apophis resumed. Void’s remaining life essence has been tethered to your own.

I set the tray down and immediately dug in.

~Through that connection… he may be drawing upon chaotic energy.

I picked up my spoon and scooped the berry-and-yogurt mixture. The tart green and black berries filled my mouth.

“Chaotic energy?” I asked, too curious despite my appetite.

There was a brief pause from Apophis.

~You do not possess the necessary runic tattoo to safely utilize Chaos Artifacts. I’ve always found that odd. One of my earlier assumptions was that your soul is partially corrupted—not broken, there’s a difference—but threaded with Chaos.

I chewed, listening.

~It was merely a theory at the time, as I had never encountered such a case before. However, after witnessing Void’s growth following your contract…

Apophis hissed with evident satisfaction.

~I am now far more confident in that conclusion.

I slowed slightly as his words settled in. However, his explanation only raised more questions. Some of which I doubted even Apophis would have the answers to.

Moreover, Apophis didn’t answer my original inquiry.

“What would have happened if I hadn’t formed a contract with Void?” I asked.

Even as I said it, the alternative seemed to be fading in the distance, now a mere hypothetical curiosity.

I felt Apophis shift on my left shoulder.

~Who knows, he replied. It would have brought its own complications. While contracting with Void is far from a completely pleasant arrangement, I believe it places you in a far more advantageous position than the alternative.

There was a pause before he added, with evident amusement in his voice.

~Besides… look at your progress. You are learning how to be a proper parent.

I choked on my cup of tea.

Grabbing a cloth, I wiped my mouth quickly, suppressing a cough.

“Grandpa, was it?” I said dryly. “Why are you so good with Void, anyhow?”

While I remembered him being oddly fond of the altered children in the Alchemist’s tower, I had never once considered him nurturing, given his nature that slanted somewhat evil.

Apophis let out a low hiss.

~Master, toddlers are the epitome of chaos. Unpredictable. Irrational. Boundless. In my journey to master Chaos, of course, I have learned to understand and handle them.

I blinked at his response.

~Which is precisely why this situation benefits you, Apophis continued, his tone sharpening slightly. You cannot freely practice Chaos in this realm. Yet you are bound to a creature that embodies it in every way. It’s an opportunity to continue your training and gain mastery of Chaos.

I leaned forward, my face resting in my left palm.

The fourth day of the week was the only day I didn’t have classes. I had originally planned to use it to investigate the fly that had been shadowing me—Carmilla Aleicard. However, given my current circumstances, learning how to manage and handle Void took higher priority.

Speaking of which….

My eyes caught sight of Paisley entering the dining hall. From how put-together she looked, she was evidently an early riser. Or at the very least, someone who hadn’t spent the entire night learning to negotiate with a toddler made of chaotic shadows.

I waved my hand, and she smiled, catching sight of me. She lifted her tray slightly in acknowledgment before motioning for me to wait while she grabbed food.

Books on toddlers were helpful. But I couldn’t ignore the elemental component that Paisley had expertise in.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

“We cannot wait until the next eclipse.”

Abbot was sitting in an armchair, gnawing on his right thumb’s nail. A bad habit that he had not been able to kick despite being well into his forties.

Nor was he aware he was doing it, given the height his stress levels had risen to.

“I had additional investigation conducted on Luca Frey,” Abbot continued, his voice strained, the words coming quickly. “And things are progressing far too quickly. In a direction that is extremely  dangerous.”

Across from him, Vincent Corwin remained seated, posture relaxed, though his expression was certainly not. He watched Abbot carefully, his temple resting in the fingers of his left hand.

“What did you find out?” Vincent inquired.

Abbot didn’t trust himself to summarize it. Instead, he thrust the stack of reports forward.

Vincent accepted them, and his eyes began to skim through the text. The room fell quiet save for the faint rustle of parchment and Abbot’s bouncing knees.

Vincent’s expression remained neutral at first, but as he completed reading the documents, his expression shifted.

“Internship under Augustus Vointdel…” Vincent murmured. “Passed his mage test in record time… Acquired a Grade A elemental…”

His eyes paused, with his eyebrows narrowing.

“…From a Cerberus?”

He looked up.

Abbot nodded his bald head, continuing to gnaw on his nail. “It’s true. It’s in the official paperwork submitted to the Agency of Elemental Affairs.”

He leaned forward, jabbing a finger toward a document under the others.

“And that’s not all. He’s accumulating influence. Fast. Powerful connections, one after another. I have word that he’s even drawn interest from the Crown Prince.”

“That recluse?” Vincent frowned.

Abbot nodded again.

“All of this,” he said, sweeping a hand across the pile of documents, “has occurred within the last two days.”

Vincent set the documents down and ran his hands through his lush, brown hair.

“Combined with Carmilla’s earlier findings,” Abbot continued, his tone gaining a sharper edge, “this is no longer a matter of suspicion. He is an other-worlder. We do not need further confirmation. If we wait until the next eclipse gathering… it will be too late.”

Vincent remained silent for a moment, his index finger tapping on the arm of his chair.

“More than half of Eclipse is unreachable until the next gathering,” Vincent said finally. “So tell me clearly, Abbot. What exactly are you proposing?”

Abbot stilled for the first time. His eyes were burning. “We need to get rid of him. Or at the very least, subdue him.”

Vincent’s gaze hardened.

“Killing Luca Frey would fracture Eclipse,” he said calmly. “We do not act without consensus. Not after what happened ten years ago.”

Vincent sighed.

“But…” he added, his tone shifting, “we also cannot afford to ignore this.”

His gaze turned to the third person in the dim room, with the curtains drawn.

Carmilla had remained silent thus far, seated beside the two men, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

“Carmilla,” Vincent said, “as the Voice of Reason… I assume you have no objections to intervening?”

Her eyes flicked once toward Abbot. Then back to Vincent.

“I concur,” she said evenly. “Waiting until the next eclipse is a risk we cannot afford.”

She paused.

“I agree with Abbot. We should act now.”

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